


Aubade

by oratorio



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3117350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oratorio/pseuds/oratorio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have always done my duty.  I did my duty to my people at Watcher’s Reach, and I will do my duty to the Inquisition.  Tell me Inquisitor, what is my duty to you?”</p>
<p>What happens when Evelyn Trevelyan is eaten up with guilt about her exposure of Fairbanks' lineage, and the plan to forcibly wed him to an Orlesian noblewoman.</p>
<p>It's smut.  I am not sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aubade

This wasn’t the first time Leliana had made her blood run cold, Evelyn Trevelyan thinks, but this time it was for a rather different reason.

They are gathered around the war table as usual, and the topic for discussion is the Orlesian man who had arrived at Skyhold a few days before.

“We can take advantage of his noble status,” Leliana is saying. “You know how Orlesian noblewomen can be” – at this, Cullen barely suppresses a shudder – “perhaps we can negotiate a beneficial match which will give him credibility and strengthen our allies?”

Evelyn knows that she is responsible for this. She is the one who had forced Fairbanks to acknowledge his true identity, his noble blood - even though he had almost begged her not to reveal his secret heritage. After all, she was doing her duty, and so should he.

She wonders now what she had thought would happen to the man, wonders at her own naiveté despite being part of a noble family herself. She had harboured romantic notions of changing the political system, of installing a humble and kind-hearted man into a position of power to influence the way the common people of Thedas were treated and to bridge the gap between rich and poor.

What a fool she was. She should have known one person couldn’t change the world. And now the world would change Fairbanks – would take that good man and consume him with an arranged and unwanted marriage, and the lifelong shackles of courtly life.

Bile rises to her throat and she claps one hand over her mouth in an effort to swallow it down, to calm herself.

Of course, Leliana notices. She notices everything.

“Inquisitor? Is everything OK?”

Evelyn briefly considers faking a yawn, but she knows that she needs to say something, to at least try to stop this.

“No,” she says, her voice sharp. “No, it’s not. We cannot do this.”

Leliana frowns. “I don’t understand. Cannot do what?”

“He is not a pawn in our game, Leliana. He did not even want to be part of the nobility. We cannot force him to marry, to give up his life for our benefit.”

The spymaster shakes her head sadly. “You know as well as any of us that all who are highborn are pawns, Inquisitor. There is no choice in the matter.”

Evelyn feels her heart beat harder, her voice rising to an uncontrolled shout. “It will not happen!”

“I am sorry,” Leliana says, her voice soft but her eyes hard. “I have already sent my spies out to canvass potential suitors.”

Evelyn turns on her heel and lets the door of the war room slam shut behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

This is all her fault, she thinks, and she has to put it right. She will tell him, tell him everything and beg him to leave, to change his name and start over somewhere safe. Somehow, she will find the gold to give him a new life.

She finds him down by the stables, leaning over the door to give her horse a carrot.

“Fairbanks,” she says, “Can we talk? Somewhere private.”

“Of course,” he says with a smile, his Orlesian accent lilting from his tongue. She shivers imperceptibly at the sound of his voice, which snakes down her spine like a lover’s touch.

Evelyn leads him to her private library, hidden away in the cellars of the stronghold.

“You need to leave.”

Her tone is blunt and strident in the quiet of the room, and his eyebrows draw together in a frown.

She presses on. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I should never-”

“It is done,” he says firmly, rubbing one hand over his eyes. “It is too late to undo it.”

“But people are trying to arrange a match for you. Your life will never be your own.”

“My life belonged to the court as soon as my grandfather wrote his will,” Fairbanks says. “I am fortunate in some way that I managed as many years of freedom as I have.”

“This isn’t fair!” Evelyn knows that she sounds like a spoilt child but she can’t seem to stop herself.

“Why do you care so much, Inquisitor?” Fairbanks says, drawing close to her so that she is forced to press herself against the reading-table. “It seemed easy enough for you to make the decision at the time to hand over my secrets. You didn’t seem too bothered then about fairness. Why now?”

“I-” Evelyn opens and closes her mouth like a fish as she feels the desk digging in to her thighs, her back bowing with the effort to get as far away from the Orlesian as possible.

“I have always done my duty. I did my duty to my people at Watcher’s Reach, and I will do my duty to the Inquisition,” Fairbanks says harshly, leaning over her so close that she can feel his breath on her face. “Tell me Inquisitor, what is my duty to you?”

Evelyn trembles beneath his steely gaze, dark with anger and strange emotion. He is glorious and terrifying, and suddenly a million miles away from the gentle man she had met in the Emerald Graves. Now, she can see why he had been the group’s leader, can see the strength in him.

She feels something in her stomach clench and - before she can stop herself - she kisses him, a brief but deliberate contact. As quickly as she had touched him she pulls away, her fingers on her lips and her eyes wide as she quails under his heated stare.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice high and alien.

“You need to stop apologising, Inquisitor,” Fairbanks says hoarsely, before his fingertips dig into her waist and his mouth closes over hers. He kisses her deeply and thoroughly, lifting her slightly so she ends up perched on the edge of the table. Her legs instinctively wrap around him, pulling him so close that she can feel the hard edge of his arousal against her thigh.

Evelyn gasps into his mouth, breathless and _wanting_ , understanding in one sudden moment of clarity just why she had felt so lightheaded at the thought of him betrothed to another.

Fairbanks pulls desperately at her tunic, the ties loosening under his hands. She feels him cup her breast, giving it a rough squeeze that makes her yelp.

“If I am to be wed to some strange noble, I would have this first,” he hisses into her ear as she feels him begin to slide her breeches down her hips. Her underclothes are already soaked, and he groans as his knuckles make contact with the heat between her legs.

Evelyn swears colourfully as Fairbanks dips his head and licks a hard stripe along the damp fabric which is now the only item of clothing left on her body. Her knees are shaking as he hooks his fingers around the waistband and strips her nude, his eyes almost black with need as he buries his face between her thighs and puts his mouth on her.

Her head falls back and her eyes close as she feels him stroking her with his lips and tongue, exploring and tasting. She gasps and cries, and her legs clamp around him as the ache between her legs grows, all coherent thought leaving her head and replacing her brain with dazzling stars which burst behind her eyelids, shaking her body and setting her skin alight with flame. He holds her hips still as he wraps his lips around her clitoris, and she screams as she tries to buck in his hands, her orgasm tearing through her body like a tsunami.

She has barely caught her breath and he is upon her, pushing her back on to the desk and settling between her thighs. He pulls at his own trousers, kicking them off clumsily as she tugs at his shirt, desperate to see him unclothed.

He is a handsome man, she thinks, toned rather than sculpted, his shoulders broad and his arms strong. His skin is tanned and freckled, and a thatch of dark hair covers his chest, a line of coarser hair leading from his navel to his groin. Evelyn swallows as her gaze travels lower.

“Tell me Inquisitor,” Fairbanks smirks at her. “How long have you wanted this?”

_I hadn’t even thought about it_ segues into _the moment I laid eyes on you_ in Evelyn’s head. Her mouth opens but no sound comes out, and when Fairbanks begins to kiss her again she forgets there was ever a question to answer.

He breathes in the air she exhales when he first sinks into her, his lips hot against hers, his tongue musky with her own juices. She wails as he sets a brutal pace, his thrusts driving her shoulders into the desk painfully. He fills her completely, overwhelms her, his body covering hers, her breasts pushing into his chest as he moves inside her. She feels his teeth graze the skin of her shoulder and she clenches around him, making him bite out a curse. It is too much and not enough all at the same time, and she desperately tries to touch herself, fighting for some control.

Fairbanks shifts back, pushing her hand away as he fits his own between their bodies, gliding across skin slick with sweat. He rubs against her clitoris as he fucks her, one finger circling and pressing until her back arches and she cries out in desperation as he brings her to another climax, just as powerful as the first.

Her body tightens around him, her fingernails digging into his back, and he makes a broken noise which could have been pain or pleasure as he thrusts roughly into her once, twice and then comes with her name on his lips, the first time he has ever used it.

Evelyn shivers as he steps away from her, her damp skin prickling with the sudden loss of heat. She scrabbles for her tunic, blushing as the reality of what they have just done sweeps over her.

Fairbanks gazes at her as she dresses, his eyes soft.

“Forgive me,” he says, his voice low. “I should not have lost control. I just wanted one last thing for myself, before I have to go.”

Evelyn cups his cheek in her hand, half-dressed and still unsteady on her feet.

“Maybe you don’t have to go,” she whispers, her voice shaking.

“You know I have to,” he says, turning away to pull on his trousers. She stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Marry me.”

He whips his head round to stare at her, his grey eyes wide and incredulous. “What?”

“I am Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan, youngest daughter of House Trevelyan of Ostwick in the Free Marches. I am of noble blood. Besides, if I tell my advisors that we are to be wed, I doubt even they would argue with that.”

“Evelyn,” her name slides off his tongue like honey. “You are a beautiful woman, a powerful woman, any man would be glad to win your heart. But we barely know each other.”

“He says now, half naked and covered in sex,” she says, her eyes rolling. “Fairbanks. If not me, then who? You would be married to a stranger regardless. I do not expect you to be tied to me. You would live your life the way you saw fit. A union with me would allow you more freedom than you would otherwise have. And who knows, we may find that there are benefits to such an agreement.”

“You make it sound so romantic,” he says, but there was a smile on his face. “Then yes, I will marry you, Inquisitor Trevelyan.”

Evelyn grinned. She couldn’t wait to tell Leliana.


End file.
